


Zleepless in Zootopia, and Other Romantic Encounters

by lepouletfou



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Breakfast at Tiffany's - Freeform, Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Love, Romance, Romantic Comedies, Sleepless in Seattle, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8363197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lepouletfou/pseuds/lepouletfou
Summary: A collection of separate one-shots loosely inspired or heavily based off of various themes from romantic comedies (in other words: WildeHopps rom-shots). Mix of both canon and AUs.





	1. Sleepless in Seattle, Pt. 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I would like to say thanks to the wonderful [Pixiestick_cc](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiestick_cc/pseuds/Pixiestick_cc) for being a lovely beta and editor for this first one-shot. She and I have bonded over romcoms, and definitely go check out her "A Different Goal" WildeHopps fanfic if you haven't already (which is also inspired by another romcom, "When Harry Met Sally")
> 
> Also, thanks to [SallyWhite92](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SallyWhite92/pseuds/SallyWhite92), another great writer, and a huge encourager in sharing my sappy, unashamed love for romantic comedies. You've been amazing! :D
> 
> Anyway, not all of these one-shots are going to be an exact alternate universe of the romantic comedy per se, but a good portion of them might just be a play on a certain quote, message, or idea from said movie. Basically, this is me needing inspiration.
> 
> First two-shot is inspired by Sleepless in Seattle and is a standalone.

“Magic,” he whispered.

The word was a little muffled, but Judy could hear the vibrations of his breath through the phone.

“What did you say, Nick?”

“When you asked me…what it was like when I was with her? My ex? Well, it was a million little things. They were all different. But add them all up, and the way I felt with her, _being_ with her, it was…”

 _Like magic_.

But the words didn’t stay burrowed for long. They sprang from the corners of her mind, emerging in her throat and breezing over the receiver.  “…Magic,” she rasped.

A few months ago, when Nick and Judy had unceremoniously crashed Fru Fru’s wedding in the wake of a missing mammals case, Fru Fru used the exact phrase to describe meeting her husband. And even before that, Judy’s own mother echoed those same words to her when describing how she fell in love with her dad. How it was just fate, destiny, how when their paws interlaced she couldn’t tell which fingers were hers or his and it felt like _magic_.

It had gained some sort of infamy in Judy’s life. She was no stranger to _knowing_ that feeling. But actually feeling it…

“Yeah, it was,” Nick’s reply briefly lifted her from her neuroses, “…as tacky as it sounds right now, but- yeah. Like I said earlier, it was like magic,” Nick parroted. “And then, it ended. It was over.” There was a faint rustling on his end, and she imagined he was shifting positions in bed. Getting comfortable for what she knew was going to be a long haul of a conversation. Lit by the dingy red glow of her alarm clock, she saw the ending written clearly on the greasy wall: a rose-tinted relationship with a disenchanting close. Her heart broke for him in a million little ways.

She turned to her side. “Nick, you’re always welcome to come over whenever you want and talk about anything. You don’t have to stay locked up at the Academy forever.”

“Hah, easy for _you_ to say. I have final exams coming up. And you do not know the ferocity that is Zootopia’s drill sergeant. I’ve been dead fifty-five times in her book.”

“Uh-huh. Do I know her? I _had_ her. And I’ve been dead just as many times as you. But from what I hear, you have amazing marksmanship and you’re acing everything. You have nothing to worry about.”

He sighed, and there was an inexplicable vibration that sent a tiny shockwave through her fingers. The energy encased all in that one little cell phone. “Yeah, well point being I can’t exactly visit you anytime soon, Carrots. I wish I could though…it would make everything go by a lot quicker.”

“Yeah, it would. But I guess- never mind, you’re right. Better to be responsible and get as much work done before exams and graduation. Funny though, with all this studying and rule following you’d think I’d be starting to rub off on you,” she laughed.

“Bah, _no way!_ What an affront to my character. I’m not about to give up my title so easily.”

“Admit it, Wilde. You’ve become a softie.”

“Nope.” Another rustle. “I’m basically Robin Hood incarnate. Rough around the edges, roguishly handsome, looks _amazing_ in green...”

“ _Right_ , I’m totally swooning. And says the fox who called me at –” she glanced at her alarm clock – “3:00 a.m. looking for a late night emotional talk through. The jig is up, Nick. Spill your sensitive guts.”

It was quiet for a minute, and Judy wondered if she bypassed some unspoken boundary. Suddenly, her bionic hearing caught onto everything that filled the silence. The downshift, the breath, the hum of the radiator that Nick no doubt slept right next to, the whir of regret and emotional tension. They all floated through the line to join in a biting chorus that singed her eardrums.

“Nick? Hello?”

“Yeah? I’m still here, Fluff.”

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that last part so mockingly. If I went too far with that bit, then I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s fine. _You’re_ fine. I was just spacing out a little. Thinking, mostly. But my feelings are the same. Right where you found them.” The answer was intentionally vague, and it was a very political tactic on his part. But Judy was a bit of an encourager, a trier, if not a presser.

“ _Nick_. Come on. What were you thinking about? Are you okay?”

He sighed again. “Honestly? I was just thinking about how good of a friend you are to me…” He paused. She suspended breathing. “And also how you probably don’t deserve me to be calling you at odd hours of the night. Because now you’ll get those bags that not even those under-eye fur brushes can comb over.”

It was rare for him to be so real and honest. Usually it was Judy who would come wobbling over with an emotional spillage, and Nick would be there to accept said downpour with open arms and a Hawaiian shirt to dry off on. So Judy cradled this moment in soft paws, wheedling answers with delicate craftsmanship. “You’re my best friend,” she began. “We both chose and stuck with our friendship. Therefore, we _do_ deserve each other. And you’ve done the same for me a countless number of times. Emotional bunny, remember?” she toyed with the wrinkle in her mattress. “But…how are you dealing with it? What made you think of her tonight?”

“I…I think I just felt a little lonely at the Academy.” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I know you’re the invincible Judy Hopps that knocked out a rhino and all, but did you ever get that feeling?”

Judy flashed back to all those nights during training. The sterile cabin walls and cold atmosphere were at times grating. And on bad nights, they were even suffocating. Occasionally, the feeling of emptiness had crept up on her, shadowy doubt arising from the obscurity making it easy for negative memories to bog her train of thought.

_“Just quit and go home, fuzzy bunny!”_

_“There’s never been a bunny cop!”_

_“No! Never!”_

_“You’re just a stupid carrot-farmin’ dumb bunny!”_

She released a gruff exhale. Of course. The painful sting of an ex would feel no different. Not far off. So close to loneliness that she knew exactly how chafed Nick felt. _Of course_ . In those instances, it was difficult to feel invincible. “First of all, I’m _not_ invincible.”

“Yeah _._ You are.”                         

She rolled her eyes and waved a paw at her phone, a futile performance for a blind audience. “Not about me right now. This is about you. And yes, I know exactly how you felt –feel. The academy can definitely be lonely. And sometimes your thoughts can feel really, _really_ loud.”

He dropped to an even lower register, a thin sound preening against raspy baritone. “You’ve got that right. This is definitely one of those moments.”

She wasn’t sure how far she could press. She was flying a little unsteadily, and was unsure of where to land the conversation. But she maneuvered through it anyway. “So, about your ex. Do you miss her at all?”

A pause. “No, I don’t think so,” he said. Another beat. _“_ I don’t miss _her_ exactly. I think I just miss what we had and how good it was for a little while. It felt…I don’t know, _really_ real, you know? Like I’d finally found something. She was the first girl I could love and also just be best friends with. It wasn’t just one thing or another. It was everything.”

 _Best friends._ It was _like magic._ Like _a million little things adding up together_. “Yeah? Then…why did it end?”

“I don’t know. It just did. Things didn’t work out, and we started fighting a lot about really stupid things toward the end. She didn’t like the way I hustled for a living, I thought she was entitled, etcetera, etcetera. It seems so far off, but even knowing that it _wasn’t_ good at the end of our relationship, I still remember only the good, rose-tinted, sickeningly sweet stuff. And now…” he stilled his pace for a moment, shuffling, and Judy could hear the lilt of mattress springs, “…now, at night, I have all this time to think. What I did wrong, what I could’ve done differently, if I could’ve been a better fox or tried harder.”

She pressed the receiver closer to her face, sending whatever well wishes she could muster through the invisible wire. “Nick, there’s nothing you could have done. It’s not your fault. Things just fall apart. It wasn’t just you, it was her too from what it sounds like.”

“I know, I know. And you’re probably right. But isn’t it lame that there’s a small part of me that wants her to see how great I’m doing now? I mean, who would’ve thought: Nick Wilde meets a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed bunny and ends up saving the city. I mean, am I right? She’d never believe it.”

Judy scoffed. “ _I’d_ believe it. I believed from the very beginning you were more than what you led on.”

“Thanks, Carrots.”

“And I actually _mean that_ ,” she flipped to her side and laid the phone flat against her pillow. “Sometimes I feel like you still don’t know how great you are.”

He huffed. “Nah, I know I’m pretty great.”

“ _Seriously_ , Nick. No deflecting. You are, and always have been. And honestly, if your ex-girlfriend couldn’t see that, then it’s on her. It was her mistake for not believing in you all the way through, and from the looks of it, it seems like she gave up. You’re not to blame here, Nick. Never. She didn’t know what she had, and that’s _her_ fault. She’s the idiot.”

Judy didn’t mean to sound so brash and biting, but the thought of anyone ever underestimating Nick’s worth ignited a fire of resentment in her heart, and it rose up and out until the flames were already consuming her sentences. She didn’t know the full story on their relationship, and from a realistic perspective, his ex probably _was_ the nice vixen that Nick made her out to be. But seeing him hurt? Seeing her _best friend_ in tumultuous breakup agony? It stole logic from reason, and she was on his side – in that blindingly overprotective manner of hers – without a fraction of a doubt.

The smoke billowed, and she regained her poise. “Gee, that probably came off really harsh…”

“A little, but it’s kind of cute how worked up you get. And it’s even more ignorantly adorable how much faith you have in me. You think I’m that great, huh?”

“First of all, I’m letting the cute comment slide. Twice. You only get so many cards,” she smiled, burrowing into her sheets. “And why wouldn’t I have faith in you? You were one of the first mammals in Zootopia to actually believe in me.”

“I wouldn’t say _that…_ I called you a naïve hick when I met you. I said some pretty rude things and basically crapped all over your big city dreams.”

“Don’t give yourself so much credit,” she smirked. “I’m a lot stronger than that.”

“Point being, I was a bit of an asshole.”

“True, but that didn’t stop you from coming around. It’s not everyday that someone stands up for you in front of the chief of police, a chief that quite literally towers over you. But you did. You saved my job, and saved the case. You did it because you believed in me and helped me get my chance back. No one was ever going to stick up for me like you did.”

Judy could hear his quiet breathing. Time trickled by, and she continued. “Nick, I’m sure she was a nice vixen. She sounded great, and what you guys had was beautiful. And I’m sure you had your moments too, because – well, let’s face it – you _can_ be dumb sometimes. But maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe we only remember the good moments because we miss the memory more, and not necessarily the mammal.”

 _“Judy,”_ he replied. “Has anyone told you how insightful you are?”

 _Her_ name. _Judy._ The sound of it provoked a tingle that traipsed up and down her chest. Weirdly enough, years of being called Judy did not feel as special when compared to this single sliver of time.

She moved her fingers, uneasily dancing away any lingering prickles. “Yes, plenty have…is it helping? What I’m saying?”

“Yes, it is. And you’ve been great…listening to me wax poetic about my dumb love life that isn’t even a love life anymore.” He coughed, shuffled. “Did you befriend the precinct trauma therapist? Is that how you’re doing this? You could take her job, you know.”

“I’m a bunny with many hats. I probably could.”

He laughed, and it was astonishing how validating it felt to be the reason for it. “Really? Did you just say you’re a bunny with many hats? There’s a magician joke in there somewhere, but it’s late and I can’t think of a good zinger right now…”

“Well then I guess it’s a blessing in disguise. The world can go another day without one of your tacky jokes...” she checked her alarm clock again. _3:58. Sweet cheese and crackers_ , how was Nick doing it? From what she remembered, cadets had to be up every morning at – “Oh my god, Nick!” she exclaimed. “You have to be up in two hours! Have you been getting any sleep?”

There was a groan on his end. “God, don’t remind me. I’m an idiot.”

“So I’m assuming the answer is no, you haven’t?”

More groaning. The background noise cut, and she figured he was blocked off and nestled under the sheets. “No, Carrots. I haven’t been sleeping at all tonight.”

She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “All because…of her?”

“N-No…not just that. Like I said, I’ve just been kind of…feeling lonely.” He respired, and there was an audible gulp. “Just needed someone to talk to tonight. And hearing _you_ really helped me a lot.”

“It did?”

“Yeah, Carrots. As little as I show it sometimes, your thoughts and opinions mean a lot to me.”

Judy could feel sentences hanging in the silence like dust particles caught in a stream of moonlight. Her breathing rhythm was sauntering into the frenetic, and she really didn’t know what to make of it. For a reason unbeknownst to her, she felt she needed to know… _more_. He didn’t miss her, but was he still in love with his ex-girlfriend? Why did Judy feel so territorial about it? The former, more pertinent question never made its debut, though. Because –

“Judy, _you_ mean a lot to me, you know that? Thank you. For everything. Your thoughts and opinions. And you. Really, _thank you_.”

She was taken aback. Up until this point in their friendship, Nick had never been so unashamedly candid. But sleeplessness and a night of ruminating certainly had a way of flinging open someone’s soul. So she gave in too. “You’re welcome, Nick. You really mean a lot to me also.”

“Thanks, _partner_.”

_Partners._

And they were. In that ambiguous, unimposing way of theirs, they _were_.

“Hey, Nick?” she said, repositioning herself in a rolling mountain of white sheets. “I miss you.”

“Yeah? I miss you too…I really wish I could see you soon.”

Something sprung. An opening. An idea. She propped herself up against her headboard. “Hey, I think I know what we can do.”

“Really? What?”

“After your exams, the night before your graduation ceremony…let’s meet up. The rooftop of the tallest building in Sahara Square. We’ll have dinner or something. Laugh and eat and throw food in loneliness’ face.”

“The Palm Hotel? That’s the tallest building in that district, and it has the best view…and –” he chuckled – “I didn’t know loneliness _had_ a face to laugh at. But you’re the boss. A dinner on the rooftop. Sounds romantic. A guy surely can’t say no to that.”

“Whatever you think, slick. This is for your health. Physical and mental.”

“True. I am the Sleepless one over here.”

She heard him yawn, the act defying his claim, and Judy took that as her cue to add in one last thing. “Nick, you _will_ find love again. I know it. I heard somewhere in a study, that people who truly loved are more than likely to love again. Some psychiatrist I heard said it on the radio. Or, at least _she_ said it was from a study she did – whatever, I know it’s hard to imagine but…just _try_ , okay?

“Hopps, don’t worry. I’m not a lost cause. I’m not in love with her anymore _._ ”

She paused, wrapping her head around his words. “You’re not?”

“I was just being thinking too hard about what we had. And you’re right. I miss the memory more. Not _her_.”

“Oh,” she shivered. Blinked into the darkness and felt heavy with sleep. “Good. Could you imagine yourself meeting someone else then? Or being with someone else?”

She wasn’t sure why she asked that. If she’d been in a more awake state, she would’ve shirked that question entirely. But if all was awry in the morning, she could blame it on exhaustion.

“It wouldn’t be so hard to imagine,” he yawned. “Not hard at all…” his voice trailed off, and pretty soon the sleeplessness he so lauded withered away over the telephone. For a while, Judy didn’t hear anything on the line, the silence like the lull of waves. Punctuated every now and then by the sound of Nick’s gentle snoring.

She pressed the end button, and closed her eyes.

* * *

But sleeplessness didn’t leave Judy. It was merely transient, and as quickly as it left Nick, it soon shifted over to her. Even when she squeezed her eyelids shut, she would realize that her facial muscles were tensed in a tightening crumple, and the plastic veneer of sleep she tried to fake would disappear right off her face. The feeling of restlessness wouldn’t leave, and instead, it left her standing on her floor’s communal balcony, her eyes tracing the arc of stars swathed across the night sky.

Luckily she had the day off, so her reverie could persist uninterrupted, without the fray of a workday hanging at the end of it. She thought again about loneliness, silence, and the ever-present theme of magic.

Everyone felt it.

And now she was wondering if she did too.

Maybe it wasn’t a huge electric shock, a violent jolt, or enough to stop a heart from beating…but she felt something. Vibrations. And when she listened to Nick talk so unwaveringly, with trust and fear and longing, she felt the sensation even after she had hung up the phone. She missed him. That was for sure. It had been weeks since he’d came back and visited from the police academy. But it wasn’t just _distance making the heart grow fonder,_ it was something a little more unremitting.

Her mind wandered to that far-off place, scrutinizing the sky and realizing how frighteningly small she was compared to the bigger universe floating around her. Suspended between dreams and reality, she realized how magical it was to just exist. In the same sphere of the mammals she encountered, and in the same realm of existence with Nick. How they met, what brought their friendship together, how when he used _her_ name, her actual name, it felt like…

_Oh god._

After that, being sleepless evolved into a regular thing for Judy.


	2. Sleepless in Seattle, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final installment of my Sleepless in Seattle-inspired two-shot. In which Nick and Judy think about destiny, stumble through their feelings, and watch it all come to a climax on the rooftop of The Palm Hotel. 
> 
> Again, thank you to my beta, [Pixiestick_cc](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiestick_cc/pseuds/Pixiestick_cc)! Taking the time and care to read through such a lengthy piece and offering honest feedback, and catching all the little mistakes I'm blind to along the way. Thank youuuuu!

Nick aced all of his exams.

In fact, he surpassed flying colors and went straight into the vivid, glaring prism of bespectacled officers with their shiny bright badges. Almost intrinsically, Nick drug a paw against chest; tracing the empty space his badge would soon be pinned to. He imagined how the emblem would flash gold and capture sunlight.

Judy, of course, had been right all along. He had nothing to worry about because he had _amazing marksmanship_ and he would _ace everything_. What she said was the lay of the law, and somehow, destiny rerouted to obey her. And being right – especially when it came to him – was a consistency Nick didn’t know whether to praise or resent.

Her predictions about him were as consistent as…what? Rain? The weather? Nick tried to pull up anything that was constant in his murky life, and he found that the only _consistent_ thing he could compare Judy to, was Judy.

He missed her, and on a more frightening level, he was beginning to rely on her.

Late night conversations were so innate that a dropped call or muffled connection suddenly felt like an ending to all vitality. Slowly, shallow memories of his ex ebbed and receded into the void, and he forgot about her face, her nose, and the color of her fur.

What sparked in lieu of it was _Judy._ Lavender eyes and grey muzzle, nimble paws and hushed words of comfort…it reignited a feeling that had long lain dormant. He stared at the picture of them on his lock screen.

“Shit…” Nick muttered, “What am I going to do?”

Startlingly, a voice across the room shook him out of his inner monologue. “Oh my _gawd_ , this is a sign!”

He shot up in his bed. Alarmed that his thoughts had suddenly been read aloud, the pages of his mind rifled through and spoken back to a captive audience. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Ugh, I’m talking about _you_ and that rabbit ‘friend’ of yours! Judy, right? I know _exactly_ where this is going!”

It was Rosie, Nick’s overenthusiastic timber wolf roommate. She was nice, but she had a way of dominating every social discussion until you were nodding your head mechanically and eyeing the exit, speculating if discomfort even had an out. Right now, he was wondering when his soul would leave his body.

“Really?” he scoffed. “What makes you even think that that’s what I was talking about?”

“Please, you’re always talking about her. Or thinking about her. And if you’re not talking or thinking about her, you’re on the phone talking _to_ her,” she stopped and smirked, “or staring at the picture of you two on your _lock screen_.”

“Fair point,” he mumbled. “But exactly where did you see this going?”

“You two falling hopelessly in love? Being happy? Putting an _end to all interspecies couple_ issues!? Do you not see the bright light at the end of this tunnel, fox?”

Oh yeah, and there was that too. Rosie took a social justice course over the summer once, arising as a self-proclaimed warrior for mammal equality and rights. There was nothing bad with that at all, and in fact, Nick actually appreciated her extensive rhetoric on the issue, but he often felt more like a museum object that she wanted to showcase, rather than an actual mammal.

He focused on the more glaring topic. “Falling in love? Us? We’re friends…I don’t think she would even –”

“Oh shut up! Haven’t you seen An Af-fur to Remember?”

“Can’t say I have,” he shrugged.

She bounded across the room, cell phone in paw, while simultaneously pulling Nick into a dialogue that would exceed awkward and rip him far away from the emergency exit. “Let me pull up a link on ZooTube…” she was next to him now, claws flipping through the lock display and straight to the app. “Ahh, here it is!”

“Why are you showing this to me again?”

“Because _look_!”

On the tiny screen, Deborah Purr was speaking gently to Hairy Grant. Her chin pointed and arms outstretched to him with all the air of old Hollywood royalty. “I really hope you find happiness,” Deborah said, “And if you’re ever in need of anything, like someone to love, don’t hesitate to call me.”

Rosie froze the frame. “See?”

“Totally,” Nick said derisively, “I’m enlightened.” Apparently, Rosie expected him to be struck by this breathtaking act of contrived insight. Showing him a ten-second movie clip that would push him into a swirling upcurrent of romantic nirvana. Nick didn’t buy it.

“All right ya ‘lil sour puss. You don’t see the parallels? ‘Don’t hesitate to call me?’ or ‘you need someone to love?’ And how much you guys reach out to each other when you’re in _need?_ ” she flailed, “It’s a sign!”

“Yeah, it is. It’s a sign you’ve seen this movie one too many times.”

“I don’t see you denying your feelings for Judy.” She nudged him with her big timber wolf shoulder. “So _what_ are you going to do?”

“Ugh,” he sighed, “do you ever give mammals their personal space?”

Rosie considered this for a moment. Pressing a foreclaw to her mouth in artificial contemplation. “Nope. But hey, I like you! I wanna help ya out.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know…” the shyness seeped into his speech, “she’s planning a dinner on the rooftop of The Palm Hotel.”

“ _Oh my god._ It is a sign! In Af-fur to Remember, the two protagonists plan to meet on the top of the highest building in New Yak City. Knock, knock, cadet. You’ve got a date with destiny.”

Rosie kept eyeing him. Nick kept eyeing the exit. But, alas, “Sorry to break it to ya wolf, but destiny is made up. Something mammals devised to ease our hearts because everything that happens is purely incidental.”

Fortunately for Nick, Rosie was already bounding toward the exit. “Sure thing! _Whatever!”_ That was another thing about her. If she felt she couldn’t offer up a rejoinder, a sharp reply, win, or _dominate_ in the conversation, she’d shut off. Leap out so there would be no awkward dip and no one would really know who had the last word. So Rosie left, slamming the cabin door behind her with a flick of her paw.

Still, there was a shred of mammality inside Nick that was screaming at him: a part of him that _didn’t_ want life to be a muddled mess of accidents and situations and random circumstance. Normally no stranger to disorder, there was a twist of unease at the idea that running into Judy at the ice cream shop was just an accident.

That she was just another sporadic occurrence in life’s sequences.

That meeting her was a string of trivial decisions linked with other trivial decisions.

That now, lo and behold, this bunny that had casually bounced into his life had him questioning his very _cynicism_ that he balanced his world on. Fate and destiny and _magic_ only existed in an alternate universe where life’s snapshots dripped saccharine and sang songs in “forever and ever’s.”

But Judy – consistent as always – was starting to make him believe in the illogical.

Knock, knock, cadet. You’ve got a date with destiny.

* * *

  
2:45 AM.

 _Sleepless again_ , Judy thought. But she didn’t really _need_ to think it so much as live it. The quiet gathered her in like a thick blanket, and she was lying so still she felt the dust settle on her fur in individual particles.

If only she could skip to the ending where she could move around and exist and _see Nick_ and wasn’t lying so still.

Nick’s face flashed on her screen. The ringtone blasted through the apartment, and Judy imagined dust particles zinging away from the current of sound. She smiled and slid the lock screen.

“Hey, slick,” she said, lifting the phone to her ear.

“Hah, heyyy, Carrots,” he hummed. “You weren’t sleeping, were you?”

“Nope. Not really.”

“Thank God…because I wasn’t either.”

She sighed. Not the typical heavy, exasperated sighs that were etched deep with weariness. But one that breathed with sympathy and concern, and a little bit… _more_. “Sleepless again, Nick?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Well, if you look on the bright side…you passed all your exams at the top of your class! So at least you _did_ prove your ex wrong…” She kicked her toes out from underneath the blanket, unnerved by the sudden heat she felt.

His breath caught. “Oh, Car- don’t worry, I –I’m not calling because I was thinking about my ex or anything.”

“Oh,” she exhaled, adjusting under the covers. “Then…what’s up? Are you feeling lonely again?”

“No, it’s not that either. I just…wanted to talk to you. That’s it. I mean, we always call each other, right?” she heard rustling in the foreground, but it didn’t sound like sheets or mattress springs. “I felt it was my duty to keep up this nightly tradition.”

“Aw, Nick. Miss me so soon?”

“Do I miss you?”

“ _Shush_ that. You know you do. I miss you too. I’m seeing you tomorrow night anyway – or, I guess, tonight, technically.”

“Technically speaking. If you want to be _correct_ about it,” he snickered. Nick’s voice came out a little garbled, fading in and out in between each of his breaths. There was a faint echo. Open air and crooning crickets. He was outside?

“Umm…what are you outside for?”

“All that stuffy cabin oxygen isn’t good for you. Who would’ve thought, huh?” Leaves crunched under his feet. “Relax. I think better out here.”

She relaxed. “Okay, well that makes sense, I guess. Be careful.”

“Thanks, mom, but I’ve got night vision. It’s a super power very few possess.”

Judy rolled her eyes and poured out more measurable, audible sarcasm in a casual huff. Then, another sigh. “So, what are you thinking about?”

A part of her wanted him to say _her_ . _Judy._ Because sleeplessness was more routine for Judy than these phone calls, like some biological clockwork that moved her body of its own accord. And they all started and ended in the same thought. _Nick_. She was beginning to throw so many desperate questions out to the universe that she imagined her words twirling in the wind, carried off to its rightful receiver with the courage she didn’t have.

Because unlike Fru Fru, her mother, _destiny,_ or basically any other mammal with neuroses reacting to another mammal’s neuroses, Judy didn’t even have to be with Nick in person to feel the spark. His voice over a telephone wire was electricity in itself.

She was wading so deep in her head she almost didn’t hear his response.

“ _You_ …” he breathed.

_Um._

“… _you’re_ \- I mean –”

 _Oh_ . _You? You’re? My what?_ Now she was confused, and she hoped she wasn’t about to hallucinate her fantasy to fill in the gaps. “‘You’re…?’ My what, Nick?”

“You’re- _your_ picnic that you have planned.”

“O-Oh yeah. _That,”_ she nodded. _Get it together, Hopps. Remember to actually breathe._

“Ack- crap. Sorry, that’s not – god, I probably sound dumb.” He let out a deep exhale, bouncing into the receiver and crackling against her ear like tissue paper.

“What are you talking about? I’m confused. Was it something about the…food I’m bringing? Something specific you wanted?” It irritated her. Dancing around the issue. The conversation of meal plan made a mockery of her feelings.

“No, the thing is…” he paused. “The thing is…”

Judy shoved her phone so far into her ear that it might as well have been in her skull. “Yes?”

“The thing is, I’m really looking forward to seeing you. And, I want to talk to you. But most of the time…” another pause, and it was like the world held still with her, “…most of the time, I feel like I can’t _say_ what I want to say over the phone. I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow because I really need to talk to you. Without this... _device_ between us.”

She thought about waiting. And also not breathing until tomorrow. _Okay._ Bionic bunny could do it. “Yeah, I totally get it. But whatever it is, I’m here for you. And I can’t wait to see you too, Nick.”

“Thanks, Judy.”

“Of course.”

There it was. _Her_ name. From him. And it soared out and over, and the speakers buzzed in her paw. The tiny device held up pretty well, since it could stand to be electrocuted by Nick’s energy now and then.

And if she uttered the word _magic_ to herself one more time she was going to barf out an entire Nora Heiferon movie.

* * *

  
“Yo! It’s the bunny fuzz!” The fennec’s deep timbre reverberated around the alley, the power of it never failing to surprise Judy on how a small mammal could ever be the source of such a tour-de-force.

“Hey, Finnick! You got a minute?” she responded a little feebly.

His eyes scanned the premises. “Hey where’s my buddy Nick? You come here alone?”

She ran a paw up her arm uncomfortably. “Actually, yeah. Nick’s not here. He’s still at the police academy.”

“Ahh,” he quirked a heavy brow, “Got ‘em on the straight and narrow. Well, you need to question a witness or somethin’ bout a case? You know I can’t do work with the police just because my old pal’s part of the fuzz now.”

“No, no! It’s not that at all. I’m not here for police work…”

“You aren’t? Whatchu doin’ here in the middle of the day then?”

The heat beating down on Sahara Square felt stifling. The trapped, recycled air in the alleyway was no better in making it any less oppressive. “Well, you see, I’m actually here just to, uhh, talk? If you’re up for it? If you’re not busy…or whatnot?”

He paused, scrutinizing her for a moment on the stoop of his van. Judy wasn’t sure how _okay_ this was. She’d ran to Finnick in an emergency situation once before, and he’d gladly helped her, but to actually sit down and talk and gab about the onslaught of emotions Judy was teetering around? The boundary line was a smudge of white on the horizon.

His expression softened. “Sure, bunny,” he finally said. “Let me go crack open a beer for us.”

She released a gust of breath, discovering that she had forgotten how to breathe in that infinitesimal span of quiet.

He returned a moment later with two Swinekens in paw.

“Thanks, Finnick,” she said. Sidling up to the edge of the van, she bit the end of the bottle cap and corked it off with finesse.

“ _Damn_. Smart, and knows how to open a beer with her mouth,” Finnick huffed, “No wonder why Nick likes you so much.”

“Well, I _am_ from the country. I know a thing or two about beers,” she curled her lips around the opening and sipped, letting the bitterness sit on her tongue before throwing back a swig. “Hmm. _Pretty_ good. But let me introduce you to some better pale ale next time.”

“Hah. You know that much about beers?”

“Hey! My last name is _Hopps_ and I grew up on a farm. It wasn’t just blueberries and carrots, you know. There was wheat and barley and all that.”

Finnick nodded, gulping down a slick stream of beer before responding. “Huh. So what brings you here today, bunny? Did Nick do something?”

“No,” she shook her head, her ears creating a soft breeze in the torpid heat, “He didn’t do anything at all. I just…I just…”

“You think you’re in love with him or something?” Finnick laughed, keeping his eyes fixed on the street ahead of him.

“Wh-What!?” she sputtered. “No! It’s not…it’s – something else. I think –”

Finnick shifted targets, and his gaze was redirected straight at her. Open, exposed, and really utterly terrifying. “You think what?” he interrupted, brow still held aloft, “you think I haven’t noticed? I’ve noticed it before you two even did.”

“Us _two_? What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, bunny. He likes you too, and I can’t believe you haven’t caught on until now. Or –” he took another swig, his expression still swimming in scrutiny –“from the looks of it, I’m guessing you _still_ haven’t caught on.”

She blinked, her nose twitching with reflexive vulnerability. “I’m sorry, but this is…I wasn’t expecting you to get into this so quickly.”

“Nah, I don’t beat around the bush. Like an old partner once said, _time is money_ , and I don’t got all day to talk about emotions without getting straight to the point. And don’t lie, I _know_ with that little look on your face that I’m hittin’ the nail straight on the head.”

Judy slumped, staring down into the neck of her beer bottle. The foam bubbled on the surface, and she felt each little pop was a jeering mirror of her own fizzing realizations. “Yeah…I guess you could say that. I mean it’s one way to _put_ it.” She raised her chin. “You think he likes me too, you said?”

Finnick bobbed his head, something akin to a snort and a laugh escaping the edge of his mouth. “I know so. There hasn’t been one girl who has changed his life like you had. You’re different for him.”

Shyly, Judy turned her head to face Finnick more fully. “But what about his ex? From what I heard…I thought –”

“His ex? No way!” A full-fledged snort erupted from his mouth this time. “They’ve been over for awhile now.”

“But, the other night, he called me…talking about how he missed what they had and the memories in their relationship. Said it was like _magic_ and stuff. Wouldn’t that be weird for him to tell me if he had feelings for me?”

“God, his ex was kind of annoying. Don’t get me wrong, she was a nice girl and all, but she had a laugh like a hyena.”

“Finnick, _you_ have a laugh like a hyena.”

He laughed again, the guttural sound coming out in an intense bellow that only exalted Judy’s point even more. “Huh,” he mused. “Guess you’re right.” He turned back to her, and lowered his voice to a more serious tone. “But what I’m saying is, right now, Nick is all about you. He’s never been this domesticated since… _ever_ , really.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. The way he talks about you–”

Her eyes lit up, and she almost wanted to kick herself in the tail for looking so ecstatic at such a startlingly mundane fact. “He…talks about me with you?”

“Err, _yes_ .” Finnick rolled his eyes. “Talks about how you’re so great, and brave and yadda yadda. Of course, he always tells me _never_ to repeat any of this to you, or else he’d purposely shut down all my con jobs…but, yeah. The way he talks about you…he’s got it _bad_ . Says even when y’all just _hang out_ , it feels like…”

She didn’t need to say it. Not when she already knew.

“Finnick! Thank you!” She shot up from the ledge, and hopped down to the ground.

“You’re welcome. Is that all you needed? I’m a busy mammal, but I didn’t mean to hustle you outta here before you could finish saying what you needed.”

She shook her head. “No, really! This has been great! And besides, I’m meeting him tonight.”

“ _Really?_ My bud’s comin’ back to the big city a night early and he didn’t even tell me about it? He does got it bad.” Finnick rolled the bottle in his paws, staring at the label. “What you guys got planned?”

Judy gave a noncommittal shrug. “He passed his exams at the top of his class, and I’m planning a rooftop dinner at the Palm Hotel. Picnic and stuff, I don’t know. He said it’s the best view in Sahara Square.”

“God, you guys make me sick,” Finnick hacked. “And you swear you were too thick to realize it until now?”

Judy’s line of sight fell to the pavement, running her foot around a chalk scribble in the sidewalk. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Alright, _whatever you_ say,” Finnick gave one last biting chuckle. “But keep that shit out of here before it makes _me_ soft. It seems like it’s airborne.”

“Will do, Finnick,” she giggled, the vibration of static and elation already traipsing her out onto the street.

“Also, get some sleep!” He shouted. “Don’t look so tired next time you come see me!”

Judy was already far off from the alleyway though, leaping off the sidewalk, and bursting right through the herd of wildebeests. _Why_ she was running didn’t exactly register, but she was lifted on strings, with a pounding in her chest coming at rapid undulations.

She was so close to knowing and _feeling_ it. Full and open in its glory. And now, evidently, Nick must have felt it too.

* * *

 _  
Okay, don’t freak out_.

Even though Nick _was_ kind of freaking out. They’d agreed to meet at 8:00 at The Palm Hotel. It was 8:13 PM, and there was no trace of bunny to be seen. Judy was either early or on time. _8:13_ was neither.

He whizzed to their conversation. It was tonight. It was _definitely_ supposed to be tonight, right?

_“Can’t wait to see you tonight, Nick! 8:00 at the Palm! I’m bringing the blueberries!”_

_“Nothin’ like sweet blueberry blackmail. See you tonight, Carrots.”_

There was…no sign of miscommunication. Everything was pretty clear-cut, but he was dissecting their texts as if some form of hieroglyphics were about to appear in its place. Reassuring him that _yes there was a code and you shouldn’t freak out! Go figure it out! Be a detective! Prosper!_

But he read and reread between the lines, and it just drew up blanks.

Nope, it was definitely tonight.

Then, a bunch of other texts (just from him) like _“Headed there on the train, now!”_ and _“Getting off the train!”_ and _“Hey hey, Carrots, you alive?”_ and _“You here? I’m in the lobby…”_

He called her.

No ring. Straight to voicemail. _“Hi! You’ve reached Judy Hopps, I’m not available to take your call right now, but if you leave your name and number, I’ll hop to it shortly!”_

Beep.

He walked circles around the foyer. “Really? ‘Hop to it?’ Anyway, _Hopps_ , I’m in the lobby of The Palm Hotel. It’s fifteen minutes past your grand debut, and I’m getting a little worried. Just a little though.” _Actually a lot_. “Call me when you get close…or when you get this, okay? See you soon.” Click.

At this point, Nick had been winding up the hallway and twisting in an endless trail around the lobby. The young deer at the front desk observed him behind thick lashes that enlarged her eyes. She was a cartoon. Blinking, _staring_ at him until Nick realized that he probably looked like he was loitering.

“Sorry, m’am,” Nick said, making a beeline for the elevator, “I was just going to head up.”

The deer with the big cartoon eyes shrugged, unaffected. “Nothin’ to be sorry about. Just looked a bit nervous is all.”

Another text to Judy. He sent it flying, feeling it fall flat in a crash landing. _“C’mon, please answer. I’m assuming your phone’s dead? I’m getting in the elevator now…”_

But maybe her phone was dead before she came. Maybe she was already on the rooftop instead. Maybe, if his stomach would stop churning bile, and the blood would stop pooling in his ears, he could actually _think_.

 _Stop it, Nick,_ he thought. _Just go up to the rooftop, and figure it out. She’s probably there_.

Or what if he went to the rooftop, and she wasn’t there, and then she showed up in the lobby afterward with no one waiting for her?

_8:26 PM._

_Ack, just screw it._

Time seemed to slow as he hurdled to the front desk. To the deer. All cartoon and wild animated eyes looking at him in a freeze-frame.  “Hey, can I ask you a favor?” Nick panted, lungs wheezing from an abrupt hundred-yard dash to the counter. _Really, did police academy training do you nothing?_ “I’m…I’m about to go to the rooftop, and I’m supposed to meet up with someone.”

She nodded, smiling a little like they were old comrades. “Girlfriend?” she asked.

“No…not a girlfriend,” Nick paused. Thought. “Well, not exactly a friend either. But she is special. And if she comes, would you tell her I’m here? That I’m waiting for her on the rooftop?”

“Of course. What does she look like?”

“Judy Hopps. Small grey bunny. Huge purple eyes.” It was weird to say that, because Judy was so much less of herself when you boiled her down to physical identifiers. Because you just couldn’t _feel_ destiny unraveling by looking at her. Nick could blind himself from her exterior, and listen to her voice. Over the radio, news cast, telephone _, whatever_ . He’d feel the care in her tone, the lilt in her laugh, and from there he could write a novel about what he knew – _felt_ – about Judy Hopps. Beneath the huge ears, huge eyes and furry grey surface.

Again, the deer. This time with one of recognition and understanding, as if Nick’s thoughts were loud enough to press into him. “I’ll be sure to let her know.”

He dashed back to the elevator, revving up a sense of hysteria all along the way. Despite his gasping, frantic display of running, the bellhop coolly ushered him in with white-gloved paws.

Standing in the elevator with the numbered buttons all glaring at him, he made an attempt to call her one last time. But…nope. It was just –

_“Hi! You’ve reached Judy Hopps, I’m not available to take your call–”_

Click.

The elevator rose, but his heart sank and stayed downstairs, somewhere between the bellhop and the front desk.

* * *

  
Judy’s eyelids were heavy, opening about halfway from sleep and struggling for dominance with their fight with gravity. Cuffing a perp actually felt like a battle easier than this one, because sleep and its grabby, unrelenting hands kept _tugging_ on the curtains of her lashes.

She rolled over, closing them, giving in. But an ominous glow projected itself onto the tops of her eyelids, and suddenly the usual black that was tucked over her pupils was _green green green_ , oh wait – _sweet cheese and crackers! Her alarm clock!_

Panicking, she opened her eyes and stared.

 _10:54 PM_.

_SHIT!_

Insomnia, the sleeplessness that so lovingly claimed her nights for the past few weeks, only seemed to be her friend when she didn’t want it. And it left during the sunny, waking hours. And the thirty-minute nap she planned at 5:00, suddenly turned into an over _six-hour coma_.

Judy made a mad grab for her phone, pressed the home button and – _yup._ It was dead. Bouncing with anxiety, she ripped whatever she could off the closet hangers, not even checking if the tops matched the bottoms. “Oh my god, oh my god,” she shouted to the room and to the void that was filling her, “Nick is going to _hate_ me.”

Eyes barely adjusted to the dark, she bumped herself around the room, caught in the sleep-induced stupor that was just beginning to slither off of her. She grabbed the wicker basket perched on the desk. _Yes, thank god._ Thank _Marian_ she packed the picnic earlier _before_ she decided to stupidly embark on the journey of her not-so-impromptu nap.

In a span of five minutes, she flew out of her apartment, buzzing with hysteria and assuring herself that Nick would forgive her for being a tired (dumb) bunny.

\----

The uncalculated coolness was slipping. And he was more or less fully freaking out with the freaking out showing perfectly on his face.

It was _11:15_ already, and mammals were going to be aggressively shooed off the observation deck in thirty minutes.

And at 12:30, he’d have to be on the last train back to the Academy.

Yet still, no Judy.

He would give it until midnight, until _after_ the rooftop closed, to call in a search party. He’d be a _cop_ tomorrow, so he would have some merit in this, right?

Until then, he didn’t want to freak anyone else out. He’d keep the rattling inside the confines of his chest for right now.

In the panic that spanned a lifetime ( _three_ hours, but he often liked reveling in the melodrama), Nick had gone between the lobby and the rooftop so many times with such perfect repetition he felt the routine was programmed in him from birth. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down.

Up.

_Ding._

Down.

_Ding._

Every time the doors opened, no Judy. Every time, the beaver would shrug, shake his head and mouth, _“not yet_.”

And every time, his heart would continue its violent drumming against his ribcage, working its way _up_ until the sound was clamoring in his ears and he couldn’t hear anything else except the string of phrases that kept calling her name.

* * *

  
“Excuse me, sir, but what time is it? My phone is dead,” she asked the hippo, craning her neck _up_ until she could feel several joints cracking in the stretch.

“It’s 11:22, miss.”

“Okay! Thank you!”

_Oh my god, oh my god._

The whir of the subway dizzied her. There was an open window off to the side, but the air consisted only of stagnant tunnel oxygen, and all it did was push more heat onto her muzzle.

She really needed to hurry up and see Nick. And hope that she could make it in time before the deck closed. Knowing Nick, he’d still be waiting for her patiently, making sure not to shower her with guilt because she’d already be doing that for him (what with her typical emotional spillage and all).

The train clanged again, and Judy felt trapped in its steel cage. Fake reused air in a moving box underground. All artificial, and Judy yearned to reach open air.

So she could remember to breathe and be natural and then hurry up and _see Nick._

\----

11:37, and still no Judy. Still just a fox on an isolated rooftop with his snout against the railing. Still that hammering that bore divots in between his ribs.

_Geez, slick. Better call it a night._

Nick slinked back from his resting spot and decided, considering everything, it wasn’t going to happen tonight.

The deer had ended her shift, and Nick felt a little betrayed. Not by the deer exactly, but the magical chain of random occurrences that comprised this night, and his life.

Tracing a familiar trail back to the elevators, he paused, waited. Waiting for a _ding_. For the doors to open. Waiting for a sign. For her to show up. Waiting.

For destiny to start knocking.

But it didn’t.

* * *

  
It was 11:47, and _yes, thank god!_ It wasn’t midnight yet! She had made it!

An elderly beaver with heavy spectacles was manning the desk. Judging by the _heavy heavy frames_ , Judy deduced that maybe his eyesight was _heavily_ subpar, and if she could just slip right by and get to the elevators –

“Hey, miss! It’s closed!” he yelled.

 _Well so much for your deduction skills, Hopps._ “Are you serious? Oh, please sir! I have to meet someone up there!” She leapt to the counter. “I-I…have a picnic planned and everything!” Judy was breathless, but then again, getting any sort of logic pounded out of you was sufficient to get you winded.

“I’m sorry, but the observation deck is closed to the public now.”

“Look, really–” she raised the wicker basket, jostling its contents in an act to sway the unwavering beaver – “I’m supposed to meet someone. And, to be honest, I _know_ it’s late and this is against protocol – and believe you me I’m normally a _stickler_ when it comes to rules – but I’m asking you to just let me up? Just for a second?” The beaver’s expression was quizzical. Or…confused? Judy’s mouth was moving at a pace far faster than her brain, and she was uncertain at this point. She took another breath. “Can I at least just take a look? My phone is dead and I’m sure reception’s terrible up there. I can’t reach him. He’s got things to say to me! And I planned this whole thing in my head on what _I’m_ going to say to him, and I can’t handle another night of not being able to say it.”

His face softened. Brows drooped. “Your boyfriend?”

She reached over the counter, clutching his paws, shaking them. “Look, he’s probably not even there anymore because he has a _very_ important train to catch soon, but I have to at least try. This is my chance!”

“Destiny?”

“What? N-no, it’s – yes? I guess?” Judy sighed. “I know this is ridiculous and this may be far-fetched and I probably look a little crazy right now, but –”

“Go.”

“Really”

The beaver _mhmmed_. “You remind me of my wife. Always believing in destiny and magic. Go ahead and go up there!” he said, smiling to himself. He nodded back in her direction. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you, sir! Really, _thank you so much!_ ”

She went.

* * *

  
He was gone.

She had missed him.

She had _slept right through the perfect moment_ , and she missed her chance. Everything.

And it wasn’t even a guessing game. Didn’t need deduction clues. The security guard had _told her_ that a red fox with a blue Hawaiian shirt was just here, and had already left over ten minutes ago.

She could try and chase after him, but he’d probably be off on the train. On his way back to the Police Academy, stood up and disappointed. Melodramatic as the thought was, Judy figured trying to see him _now,_ after _this fiasco,_ would be clutching to the tail end of another fleeting fantasy.

There was so much running and play-by-plays splintering off and exploding in Judy’s head that she almost didn’t hear the _ding_ of the elevator. She was still clutching the wicker basket, the blueberries, the _care_ , and so weighted by mischance that she dragged herself down against the railing. Down, _down_ , and hitting the cold cement with an imperceptible thud.

“Carrots?”

It was small. A little shock against her temple that was enough to jolt her right back into sanity.

She stood up. Relieved, _at home_ , at the sight of him. “Nick!?”

Gradually, they vibrated toward each other, stringing into one another’s gravity through an unseen cable.

“Hey,” he whispered finally. “It’s you.”                   

The beam of electricity flowed right through her, feeling it right down to her core until she was shaking in physical aftershock. Judy reconsidered, figuring that maybe some things (actually just him) _could_ stop hearts. “It’s me,” she replied, “you’re _here_.”

“No. _You’re here._ Finally _,_ Carrots,” he chuckled. “It took you long enough.”

“Nick, I’m _so so sorry_. I took a nap and overslept, and when I woke up my phone was dead and it was too late to charge it and text you, and I –”

“ _Judy,”_ he hushed. _Her_ name. “You’re fine. I’m not mad.”

“I know, and that just makes it so much worse. Because I mean, _I_ would be mad. I basically made you wait for three hours.”

“Wasn’t so bad.”

“Nick, it sounds awful.”

“But you’re not. You never will be.”

Even though she still _felt_ awful, he had a way of reading her mind and picking out the insecurities that sometimes tethered her to the ground. Somehow, he had a way of just knowing what was going on beneath her, and with his voice, with his silver tongue that iterated all the things she needed to hear, he’d help her feel a little more okay.

Not one for subtlety, the security guard coughed and cleared his throat.

Nick glanced over, giving a curt nod of understanding. “We better go,” he said. And Judy could only offer a tight-lipped smile. The corners tugged up, held by artifice but shrinking with disappointment. There wasn’t going to be any picnic, any view, any fanfare, or any of the things she dreamt their rooftop reunion to be. It was ending. She wanted to say so much more, she wanted to _hear_ Nick say so much more. But instead, it was all dashed off the rooftop and into the wind because destiny (and the security guard) had a way of playing devil’s advocate.

The last train to the academy was going to leave in _thirty minutes_ , and she was in a near panic knowing that telling him everything she needed to would have to stay as a soon-to-be scenario for just a few days longer.

But then, Nick smiled. It wasn’t one of his trademark smirks that existed purely to elicit a reaction. It was a shy, elated smile. And she had the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

The security guard coughed again. Nick took the hint. “I mean, we _really_ better go, so...shall we?” he repeated, but this time reaching for her paw. And without any hesitation, Judy took it, feeling the heat flare underneath her fur. She stared in awe at their interlaced fingers. She remembered Fru Fru. She remembered her mother _,_ and the story she regaled about how when she tangled her fingers with Stu she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began and from that she just _knew_ . Granted, Judy _could_ tell Nick’s fingers from hers, but they were intertwined in grey and orange and black that it might as well have been one palette of washed color.

Judy knew. She felt the twinge. The shock. And in silence, without kissing, without fanfare, this smaller innocent handholding was more than enough. She felt him tugging at every part of her. Every shred of doubt and sleepless whisper. Feeling the current of energy between their paws, and having it be the most intimate thing she felt with him.

“We shall, Nick,” she finally spoke. “We _shall_.”

Both of them shared smiles, quietly walking off hand in hand toward the elevator. They didn’t need to say it anymore. Not when they knew it and felt it in a grip that was stronger than the universe that held them.

But their minds still spoke loudly on their behalf.

And it was _like magic._

 


	3. Breakfast at Tiffany's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( _not_ a continuation of Sleepless in Seattle)
> 
> Short WildeHopps one-shot inspired by the final scene in the film Breakfast at Tiffany's, which was a film based off of a book, which was a novella based off of actresses Truman Capote encountered. So really this is some full-circle stuff here. 
> 
> (summ: Rain and emotion and love confessions.)

“At least I won’t be _like you, Nick_!” she spits. “Do you know what’s wrong with you? You’re afraid. You’re afraid of everything. You’re afraid to care about someone, you’re afraid to _be in love with someone_ , and you’re afraid of really truly being yourself!” The words barrel into him, and he feels a rock sink into his gut.

“You don’t know me, Carrots. You don’t know what my true self is.”

“And neither do you. But you _can_ if you would stop being such a chicken shit and just let me get to know you. Let me _love_ you.”

Nick turns at that. Can’t bring himself to look her in the eye and see the emotions that lie swimming in the amethyst. “You don’t love me, and you don’t know what love is. I’m-I’m too much for you.” And what he means is, _I don’t deserve you_ , “And you and I are not mammals to be bounded. To be made less of ourselves. We don’t belong to each other, and we don’t belong to anyone but ourselves.”

And then he stays silent.

Judy wrenches the handle of the taxi, practically bursting out in anger, the rain pooling on her fur. She pauses for a minute before shutting the door, and then leans into the frame. “You think that you’re better this way? You think that I want to bind you and lock you away or something like that? Because that’s _ridiculous_ ,” she’s yelling now, and Nick still fixes his eyes on the back of the cab driver’s head. “I don’t want to lock you up. I just want to _love_ you, Nick!”

“ _Carrots_. Please stop saying that. You don’t.”

“I DO! And _stop_ calling me Carrots. My name is Judy! _Judy,_ remember?”

He does. He remembers everything about her.

“I feel sorry for you,” she continues, “You think that you’re stronger somehow, that you’re invincible when you don’t let ‘em see that they get to you. But you know what? It doesn’t make you stronger. All it does is make you _alone!”_ There’s a bite to her words now, and every phrase that leaves her lips thrash out against the rain, spewing droplets everywhere onto the seats. “No matter where you go, Nick, you’re always going to be with yourself. In a place where _you_ trapped _yourself_! Not me. Not everyone else. _You_.”

She sighs, standing still in the doorway with the rain _whooshing_ right in. Nick doesn’t know what to say, or how to breathe. And soon Judy, the cab driver, the mammals on the street, and _the whole goddamn world_ seem to be holding their breath with Nick. “You’re terrified of being something more than what you think you are. And I’m in love with you, Nick. You can’t change that. And from what I know”– she points a delicate fingertip at him –“You’re probably in love with me too. But again, you’re too terrified to be happy…and I don’t know why you don’t just let yourself be happy.”

Her gaze cuts into him, and it feels like claws against his back.

_I don’t deserve to be happy. Not with all the bullshit I bring every single day._

But what comes is, “ _Judy,_ stop. Just leave. Now.”

She pulls back, hesitating. Waiting to see if he’ll say anything else. But Nick is complacent in keeping up his performance of detachment. He stares emptily ahead. Enduring her words, her breath, and her terrifyingly large 3-foot presence. He shifts slightly to the left, fencing himself even further, shielding from the rain and the cuts and the love that comes pouring through the car.

Judy glances down, pulls something out of her pocket. “Here, _slick_ ,” and for once, it’s not his name. “I’ve been keeping this for months. But you might as well have it.” She tosses a small orange thing onto the faux-leather seats, and it hits the side of Nick’s thigh with a gentle nudge. She sputters a few last bitter words before she slams the door. “Take it, because I don’t want it anymore.”

She doesn’t even say goodbye…or even just “bye” (remove the _good,_ because that’s all that Nick does, he thinks).

He finally steals a glance, and he sees it. The _orange thing_. It’s Judy’s carrot pen that she apparently lugged around for months. The one that recorded all of their conversations. All of them. Happy, sad, sarcastic, or just when she was looping him into a hustle to show him up. They were all there.

Picking it up, he feels the rock in his gut sinking even lower, warping his organs and pulling his heart down with it. He turns it around in his fingertips, examining the pen as if the answers were hidden beneath its ridges. For so long, Nick had a good thing going. He’d hustle, rob, _take_ , and flash a smile of pearly fang at the world and give only the clean polished parts of himself that he wanted them to see. He kept the other parts expertly hidden, and it was something he got used to. Kept him safe. Kept him _protected_.

But then Judy came along with her neurotic idealism. And while it was admittedly cute at first, the overbearing positivity started to rattle the axis he built his safe, caged-off world on.

And he needed her. Loved her.

_Loves her._

“Sir?” the cabbie asks. “Are you still going to Zootopia International Airport?”

He looks back down at the pen. Why the fuck was he so afraid? Why couldn’t he just let himself be happy?

The rain pelted down against the glass, jarring and intense, rising and falling at the same rate as Nick’s internal spinning.

Maybe he _could_ be happy. Maybe he _could_ stop being an idiot and just let himself be vulnerable. Because the only way he can really let her see him, is to shed away the plastic façade and let her get to him. Which she already is. His eyes prickle, and his vision blurs, and he realizes now that he’s crying.

Yet somehow, despite the blurriness, as if the tears are telescopes, they help him finally _see something_ a bit more clearly. And he feels he can see himself up close.

Nick glances back at the driver. “No thank you, sir,” he replies, making for the handle, “I think I’m actually just going to get out right here.”

He tosses the cash, not even counting to make sure he isn’t overpaying ( _a first in his life_ ), and shuts the door.

He spills out onto the street, onto the sleek cement, and everything just _spills_ –

“ _CARROTS!”_ he shouts. _“_ JUDY!”

Mammals whiz by him in a wet, hazy blur. Their muzzles tucked into their collars to guard themselves from the pellets. As Nick runs down the street, the taxi quickly becomes a yellow dot on the horizon, and he feels everything is far, far away. Like anything that had taken place before now was from a distant life outside of his.

“JUDY?! _JUDY_!” he’s getting desperate now, and his shrieks feel innocuous against the violent onslaught of rain. “JUDY! _Where are you_?”

_Please still be here, **please** still be here. God. Please still be **somewhere.**_

He passes by an alleyway, and for some innate reason, his intuition is screaming at him to go in. Nick does. And he bumps into boxes and trips over trash and feels the rain come down harder. His shouts grow louder, and he feels their frenetic vibrations bounce off the exposed brick and right back at him.

Where is that god damn rabbit? Now he’s cursing himself for not _saying_ anything in the taxi. For not chasing right after her when she slammed the door. For not _realizing_ how dumb he was until the two minutes it took for him to cry and discover how much she mattered. How much she always did.

“Nick?”

It’s almost dampened by the slush, but he hears her. And for the first time that night, he turns. _Looks_ at her. Directly in the muzzle, without walls.

“N-Nick?” she steps forward. Slowly. Like she’s worried he might run away again, but he assures himself he won’t. “You came back?”

And her voice is shy and feeble and sounds so fucking _weary_ and unlike her that all he wants to do is hold her. “Yes, I did. I came back.”

“What does– are you– are you _staying_? Or?”

He runs right up to her, through the rain and through the doubt and he washes it all away with one fiery swoop. They’re inches apart now, and without words, without anything more, they tumble into each other’s arms. Nick leans down and presses his lips to hers, and in their soft, wet embrace, he feels like he’s coming home. Her paws wrap around his neck, and it’s a welcome invitation. Walking through the door, shedding the layers, and getting wrapped up in warmth.

For a second, they separate. He stares right into the amethyst, takes in the emotion, and _swims_ in it until he drowns.

“I want to love you. I want to be happy.”

She nods. “Good. Because I want us to be happy too.”


	4. She's The Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birthday gift for [helthehatter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helthehatter/pseuds/Helthehatter)! A She's The Man AU where Judy Hopps has to pose as a boy, and gets into awkward situational comedy. 
> 
> A She's The Man movie AU in which Judy Hopps pursues her high school soccer dreams, and the only way she can do so is if she goes full-out Mulan and pretends to be Jude the Dude in order to be accepted.

It was rare for Judy to hide who she was, but in some cases, it happened.

The soccer team at West Burrow High had been cut. Wait, no. Correction: the _girls’_ soccer team at West Burrow High had been cut. The boys’ team was left relatively unscathed amidst the budget cuts and underfunding. Ridiculous reasoning, considering the amount of money the school received in endowments. And when Judy tried to convince the coach she was good enough for the boys’ team? Her efforts were brutally snubbed. And met with laughs. _Lots_ of laughs.

 _“You think a girl – a girl_ and _a small prey animal – can be good enough for a boys team?”_

_“You’re out of your mind, carrot farmer!”_

_“We would lose the championship. Girls aren’t even strong or athletic enough!”_

_“It’s in their biology_!”

She knew she was good enough. _More_ than good enough for the boys’ team. And up until this point, there was nothing she could do. The coach, the team, the _school_ was as unmovable as they came. No one seemed to care. She couldn’t even inspire enough frustration to start a movement because she was the only one who was even _in_ the movement. Anyone she’d tried convincing to help her would just ruffle her ears and say how _cute it was that she was trying so hard._ Mammals would take her literally, but never seriously. Even her mom and dad – who were swamped with 275 _more_ pressing issues to deal with – responded to her in that usual sort of parental ennui. _Oh, it’s great to have dreams, dear,_ her mother had said. _Although sometimes you just have to settle._

But even in the face of abject blackness, Judy remained an optimist. There was still one thing she could do. It was, to put it lightly, completely insane, but she _could_ do it. And tiny little slivers of hope at such trying times were fleeting, and therefore important _._ So she decided to latch onto this crazy, last-ditch attempt and just run with it into the goalpost.

Which was why she was joining their rival school’s soccer team.

Wait, no.

Addendum: Joining the rival school’s soccer team, _and_ going undercover as a boy.

And so while rare, it was now _necessary_ for her to hide who she was.

Goodbye, Judy Hopps. Hello, Jude the Dude.  
  


* * *

  
“Hello, I’m Jude the Dude. Nice to meet you,” Judy droned, trying (and failing) to downshift her voice to a more husky tenor. She sighed, and went back to normal. “Was that any good?”

“Ehh, _better_. But it’s not perfect,” Bobby Catmull, musical prodigy and expert in all things theatrical, critiqued. “When you drop in pitch, you can’t drop your chin all the way down too. You have to keep it level, otherwise it’ll look like you’re trying too hard.”

“But I _am_ trying hard,” she grumbled.

“Correct. But this is one of those things that can’t be obvious. Do you want to get kicked out of that school? You have to really _feel_ the character. Get inside their head, you know? You’re not Judy anymore. You’re _Jude_. You have got to –”

“Bobby, not now! Please don’t do one of your stage pep talks.”

“Just trying to help, _Jude_ ,” he replied.

Judy and Bobby had been in their school’s empty theater room for hours, mulling over costume ideas and at least a million different ways she could possibly drop her voice any lower. She’d said no to steroids (although she was pretty sure Bobby was joking), and definitely _no_ to parading as an 8-year old boy who skipped ten grades and hadn’t hit puberty yet. She even said no to the fallback option, which was pretending to be mute. It was already so hard communicating with mammals _normally,_ how could she possibly mime her way onto a soccer team?

“You have boy clothes, right?” Bobby asked.

“Yup. I have over hundreds of brothers.”

“Hmm, at least the costuming part will be easy.”

“What are we going to do about…my voice?”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “But for right now, I’m thinking we’re going to have to snip off your eyelashes.” And he said this, casually, resting a paw on his chin.

“ _What?”_ she barked incredulously. “You’re not cutting off my eyelashes!”

That was the thing about Bobby. He was gifted. Talented _._ The next John Lennon even. But his die-hard commitment to playing (well, _being_ ) a role was frightening. At times, it even bordered on socio. Judy could feel the pinpricks on her eyelids, as if her lashes had already been cut to stubs. However, for a task like this, Judy had no other friend to turn to. Who else would understand the _detail_ and _dedication_ in masquerading as something as far-fetched as this?

“Suit yourself,” he laughed. “You know I was only kidding about your eyelashes, right?”

“Har har. I’m not so sure about that, Catmull. Your devotion to theater is scary.”

“I would say my devotion is below average.”

“When we were nine you brought in over ten different instruments to accompany a less than five-minute stage play,” she jabbed, thrusting a finger out in the air. “Sounds like above average devotion to me.”

“Fair observation. Oh, I almost forgot, do you have musk mask?”

“No…I don’t. Do I need it?”

Bobby nodded, looking at her disparagingly as if she’d done something ridiculously outrageous, like changing her feet. “Yes, you completely do.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“Because you’re going to be surrounded by mammals with a _very_ keen sense of smell. Like wolves, foxes, elephants, etcetera. They can probably detect certain odors really well. Male and female. You can’t blow your cover.”

Judy, feeling naked, reflexively covered her chest with her paws. “ _What!?_ They can sense that?”

“They sure can,” he nodded. “So it’s better safe than sorry. You’re going to need to douse yourself with a ton of musk mask.”

“Great,” Judy muttered.

But it was a small price to pay in comparison to her end goal. She was going to do what was absolutely needed to hide who she was.  
  


* * *

  
The Meadow Ridge Academy was a highly prestigious boarding school nestled comfortably on the edge of Zootopia, in the Meadow Lands. It was a school so pretentious and self-important that even mentioning you went there had the same effect on mammals as telling them they were in the presence of a real and actual deity. Their student body boasted things like all-organic potlucks and sponsored field trips to Paris, because _yup_ , this school was _that_ level of pompous.

However to Judy, the most important thing – the thing that would actually be most beneficial for her at Meadow Ridge – was their _expansive soccer field._ And, the fact their soccer team would be competing against West Burrow in the championships.

Except here, in the now, the very real _reality_ of being a boy was staring Judy right in the muzzle. Pulling strings to get into Meadow Ridge was fairly easy (Luckily, Bobby Catmull had a great uncle who was college roommates with the academy’s headmaster). But staying in and pulling off this scheme was going to prove a thousand times more difficult.

Walking into her room, she was immediately faced with the daunting task of meeting her roommate. A roommate who was a _male_ , and a _fox;_ two things Judy had literally no experience with. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, talking to two other mammals (a weasel, and a smaller fox that looked like a toddler).

What was she supposed to say to boys? She only had practice with her brothers, but those interactions didn’t extend far beyond ear pulling or arguing about which one of the hundreds of them left the toilet seat up. And even then she was still just Judy. And now she was _Jude,_ awkwardly stuffed into baggy pants and an oversized button-up, and warping her spine in an uncomfortable arc to _hopefully_ resemble a posture that screamed swagger (whatever that was).

She decided that the safest thing to say was, _yo._ That was good enough, right? Not too long of a syllable, so her voice wouldn’t have to linger on it to _really_ try to sound convincing. And so –

“Yo,” she said. Well, ‘said’ was putting it lightly. She practically half-croaked and half-coughed out the word. Flustered, she thumped a paw against her chest and repeated herself. “Yo, what’s up, roomies?” she readapted with a little more fortitude.

It earned at least a nod from the fox. “Just me,” he responded. “These guys live down the hall.” He pointed to the weasel and the fennec sitting next to him. “And…what was your name?”

“Jude Hopps,” she intoned huskily. Or…she _hoped_ she was intoning huskily. “Nice to meet you…?”

“Wilde. Nick Wilde. This is Duke–” he gestured toward the weasel “–and this is Finnick–” he stuck out another finger at the smaller fox “–make yourself at home and all that.”

Thankfully, the two canids didn’t utilize their special smelling powers to sniff her out (She’d made sure to put on _extra_ layers of musk mask before she walked in). Perhaps, this plan wasn’t going to be so bad after all. Judy plopped her bag down on the bed, and splayed herself down on the mattress. Hey Jude, you’re, cool. You’re _cool,_ okay? Play it cool.

She realized they were all staring at her.

“Oh. Sorry. _Right._ Where are my manners?” she giggled – no, _chuckled._ Was that the manlier term for it? She didn’t know. Judy sprang up from her bed. “Come in here, bro.” She ambled up to Nick, readying him for a hug and pulling him in. Judy strained every single one of her muscles to grip him forcibly, using her paws to aggressively thump him on the back. She kept thumping him. And hugging him, adding a couple of grunts for good measure. Was this even believable? Also, how long were _boy_ hugs supposed to last? One or two seconds? A couple? More? She could actually get used to this. It’s not like he smelled bad, or anything. The longer she pondered this however, the _more_ awkward it became. Then, to her horror, she realized that maybe boys never _ever_ hugged each other upon meeting. Wasn’t there an unspoken societal norm that kept them from being casually affectionate? And at this point, Judy was hugging and thumping Nick for much longer than was deemed normal.

Nick yipped, separating them. “Err, hey there…uhh, _bro_. Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

“My bad,” she said rigidly. _Sweet cheese and crackers. You’re cool, Jude. Cool. Cool. Cool._

“Hah,” the-fennec-fox-who-was-definitely-not-a-toddler laughed, “your roommate’s pretty twitchy, man.”

Nick responded by elbowing him in the ribs. Finnick let out another guttural laugh, with a voice so low that it made everyone around him sound prepubescent.

Judy gulped. “I-I am?”

“Yeah, you kind of are, rabbit,” Duke mused, picking at his teeth with a toothpick. “You nervous or somethin’?”

“No!” she said tightly. “I’m not. I’m just…it’s my first time at this school, and all. And I…eh. Nerves, right? Heh,” she giggled- _chuckled._ “You know, transitioning, and with all these mammals here...”

Nick nodded, “I get it.” And he stated this so firmly, so unwaveringly without breaking eye contact, that Judy was absolutely frightened she’d been found out.

“You…you do?” She stared back. Less unwaveringly, and she swallowed. “You do, _bro_?” she threw in, hoping to add a bit more believability.

“Don’t worry, we’re not snobby like all those trust-fund jerks out there,” Nick chided, jabbing a thumb out the window. “My friends and I are here on a scholarship.”

“Oh _._ ” Judy let out a breath, and went back to curving her spine. You couldn’t have swagger if you were nervous and holding your breath like a two-year old.

“Yeah, on scholarships and as _tokens_ for the school to trout around. Helpin’ inner-city kits and shit,” Finnick added grudgingly.

“Whatever, at the end of the day, its all just _money,_ ” Duke spouted, throwing in his two cents.

Duke and Finnick shrugged at each other and turned to their computers, thankfully becoming more engrossed in their screens and steering their attention away from Judy.

“Hey, you play soccer?” Nick asked, eyeing the brochure sticking out of Judy’s bag.

“Yup…I uh, played forward at my old school in the Burrows. On the boys’ team, of course.” Okay, Judy. Keep being _so subtle_ about this performance act.

Nick nodded, unperturbed by all of her fumbling. “Midfielder. I’m also the team captain,” he mentioned proudly. “You’re going to tryouts tomorrow, then?”

“Absolutely,” she squealed enthusiastically.

_Squealed._

Oh sweet peas and carrots. If Judy had the ability to split in two and watch herself outside of her body, she’d cringe _._ But for right now, all she could do was _be in her body_ and sweat and be nervous.

“Jesus, your roommate is weird,” Finnick whispered to Nick, under his breath. To which he grunted and rolled his eyes.

It didn’t go unheard. But not like Judy _thought_ Finnick was trying to hide it. It was no secret that rabbits had good hearing anyway. And the only secret she was hoping to keep hiding for now was hers.

So she would keep hiding who she was, all through tonight, all through soccer tryouts, and hopefully through until after the championships.  
 

* * *

  
“Jude Hopps, you’ve made second-string,” Coach Bogo huffed. “You can pick up your jersey at the next practice.”

“Second-string, sir?”

“Yes, congratulations.”

Judy thought about the game against West Burrow in a couple of weeks. If she wanted to be _good,_ and if she wanted to _enjoy_ herself, she really needed to step up in position.

She really shouldn’t be so disappointed. Tryouts had been _grueling_ to say the least, and she would’ve been lucky to have even made it as a towel boy. Judy had been so wrapped up in her charade as a boy, that all her energy had been put into _that_ rather than aptly preparing herself for soccer tryouts. Her play wasn’t bad, but it was definitely not her best. As soon as she _thought_ she had a clear grasp on the ball, another teammate would scissor through the field and show her up. Right when she thought she could successfully swoop into a forward roll or a stopover, she’d be outmaneuvered by another mammal.

She’d gotten a few good strokes in, but it wasn’t enough to strike the coach or any of the teammates with awe.

And Judy wanted to groan from her ineptitude.

“Anyway, Hopps,” Bogo prattled, “I’ve made my decision. You’re _second string_.”

“But Coach Bogo, I–”

“That is all I have to say,” he said, sacking their conversation with a flit of his hoof. “Another game. I’ll see you at practice next week.”

On the field, Judy could see Nick as an orange blur in her periphery. He was easing through the grass, all breezy and cool. He shouted orders to team members, kicking the ball back and forth. He threw up high-kicks and whizzed over obstacles with such grace that would make even David Barkham a little jealous.

And Judy Hopps was no Barkham. Unlike him, she wasn’t shielded by the privilege of having awards and honors. So she surpassed jealousy, envy, and even the deflated feeling of _I’ll never be as good as that_. Because all she could do was watch Nick Wilde with full and open admiration. Catching herself nearly fangirling over his soccer skills, Judy shook her head. Focus. Focus, focus, focus.

 _I need his help_ , she thought. _I need to play with them in the championship.  
_  

* * *

  
Judy caught Nick in the hallway, piling books into his locker.

“Yo, Wilde!” she shouted in her best (she thought) gruff voice. “What’s uppppp, bro?”

Nick – visibly aggravated and embarrassed at this interaction – bristled, and fixed his gaze into the back of his locker, continuing to shove more books in. Judy could feel the collective turn of heads, the students in the hallway turning and snickering at her under their breath. She ignored it.

Judy wasn’t going to give up. They were two weeks away from competing against West Burrow, and every single nerve ending in her body was lit up with determination. She’d been a little deflated about being second-string, sure, but she could at least keep trying to get on Nick’s good side. No matter how many times he rejected her efforts. “Come on!” she boomed again. “You not going to answer? You just gonna leave me hanging?”

“What is it, Hopps?” Nick finally responded.

She ambled up and leaned on the locker right next to his, wondering which foot (left or right?) to stick out or tuck in, which pose would make her look more casually cool. She decided to tilt back, oh so naturally, and rest her head on the locker too. Did this make her look like a cooler guy? Maybe, if she cocked her hip–

“Err…what’s up?” Nick asked exasperatedly. “Are you going to actually talk, or are you going to keep staring at me and posing all weird like that?”

“Oh, um, sorry,” she mumbled, promptly jolted from her Cool Guy 101 reverie. “I just wanted to talk to you about the soccer team?”

He shut his locker and rolled his eyes at her. “What about it? You’re mad about getting second-string still?”

“I can be first, I swear.”

There was a quirk in his brow. “What Bogo says is pretty much the lay of the law. He hates insubordination. If you’re second-string, you’re second string.”

“But you’re the captain! You could put in a good word for your ‘ole buddy, your pal, your _roommate,_ ” Judy said.

“Wouldn’t go as far as to say that.”                               

“Just roommate then.” She sighed, and angled the conversation in a different direction. “Do you not think I’m good enough either?”

“No…I mean. You’re good. But I just don’t think you have what it takes. And this is coming from both the team captain _and_ the coach.”

A lesser rabbit would have thrown in the towel, but not Judy. She inhaled, continuing, and was all smiles and cock-eyed determination. “So you admit _,_ you know I at least have raw talent,” Judy wheedled. “I just need to hone it better. And I was thinking you could, at your convenience of course, help me train…? Please?” She fought the urge to sound too desperate, but the question marks that flooded her sentences sort of betrayed that. The thought of her dreams getting derailed (again), while so close to the goal, only pushed her voice into more helpless inflection. Help me train? _Please? Please?_ Question mark? She roughened up a tad. “Please,” she affirmed. “I really want to be taken seriously on this team.”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, eyeing her with hesitation. “Coach Bogo doesn’t think you’re ready for something like this. You’re new here, and he wants you to prove yourself in second string before he can make a decision.”

“But that’s the thing,” she pressed. “ _You_ can help me prove myself. You’re the captain, and you can help me train. Sway the coach’s decision.” For good measure, Judy decided to shove in various ego-boosting compliments into her persuading (because, she noticed, the fox was as proud as he was good at soccer). “And-and because you’re super great at soccer. And oh, you know, _so_ amazing. The next David Barkham even. And what better way to look good in front of the coach than as a captain who helped his teammate _become_ just as amazing?”

Nick looked at her suspiciously. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

Well. It wasn’t a flat-out _no_ this time. Nick’s answer was at least… _something._ “Nope, I don’t,” she said. “And I won’t stop asking until you at least _try_ and help me.”

“You know as team captain I could probably just kick you out right?” he quipped.

“For what? You’d have no grounds.”

“For being a _pain in my tail,_ Hopps.”

“That’s hardly a basis for termination. I’ve read the soccer manual, Wilde.”

Nick groaned. “Of course you have. Well then, let me just tell you so at least it’s out there. You’re a pain in my tail, Carrots.” He rolled his eyes, but from what Judy could tell, there was no hint of reluctance or irritation in them. He was kind of softening, and, dare she say it, she was at last beginning to win him over.

Judy took the opening. “So are you going to help me?”

Defeated, he answered, “Fine.”

“You will?” Judy was practically _bouncing,_ buoyant on the prospect of finally being able to play. “Thank you so much! Oh my god, I –”

“On one condition,” he interjected.

“What? What is it? Anything.”

“You stop acting weird. As my future protégé–”

“ _Friend_ ,” she corrected. “But what do you mean I act weird?”

“Yeah, _friend,_ whatever,” he dismissed with a wave. “Anyway, for starters, it’s like you try way too hard to interact with all of us. And you talk with so much slang it’s completely unnatural,” he paused, and seemed to backtrack. “Well, sans this conversation. You’ve been completely normal around me. But you need to…relax a little, okay?”

She nodded. Nervously. The observation catching her wildly off-guard. _Crap._ Her secret seemed ready to shoot right out of one of the lockers and suffocate her. “Okay…I will.”

“Also,” he added, “I know we all use musk mask, but I have never met a mammal who has used as much as you do. Our dorm room is engulfed every day by the smell of your spray.”

 _Better that than the very distinctive female rabbit smell of just me._ “Wh-I mean, well, I do, but it’s…I need it.”

“Dude, I am nearly twice your size, yet you’ve gone through a quadruple amount of cans of musk mask.”

Judy made an attempt to steady her paws, but there was a slight tremor in her limbs that made it look like she was both terrified and had downed about a hundred shots of espresso. “I get really nervous? Uhh, my scent is really bad when that happens?”

He shook his head. “Come on, I’m the captain of a sports team. I’ve smelled worse.” Nick leaned back, easing off the interrogation, and Judy could feel the muscles inside of her gloriously begin to relax. “Just…lay off the musk mask, all right? At least enough to _not_ repel everyone in our hallway,” he advised with a grin.

“Right,” she conceded. “I’ll be sure to lay off.”

“Great. Be ready on the field tomorrow by 6 a.m. For our training session.”

She nodded again, briefly, before Nick pulled his book bag over his shoulder and walked away. She couldn’t believe it. He’d said _yes_. And she began heating up at the excitement of finally playing again and being taken seriously _._ Her heart was ready to shoot right out of her chest and waltz down the hallway and out onto the field. Judy realized she was probably sweating. _Again._ And as a last hurrah, she hurried back to her dorm room and sprayed on as much musk mask as she could.

And she would keep on _trying_ to hide who she was. Regardless of how much being around Nick made her fluttery and nervous.

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on my tumblr @lepouletfou. Come talk about romcoms with me or make suggestions on what movie I should base a WildeHopps pairing off of next. Or if you just want to talk about random feelings and stuff, I'm here too. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! As always, comments and thoughts are more than appreciated.


End file.
